Red Nothing
by darksideofnight
Summary: There was something familiar about the masked man, but he could not place it. He stood out from anyone else at the masquerade. Crossover with Edgar Allan Poe's The Mask of the Red Death


There was something strikingly familiar about the figure who danced with the lime haired woman. But it wasn't familiar in a good way. It gave him an ominous feeling of fear. But, unlike other goers to the masquerade, he wore a mask to cover his whole face, so he really didn't understand what he found so familiar. It was odd when compared to other masks, which covered only the eyes. This one was plain black, in the simple style of a Greek drama mask, though no mouth was visible. It made Suzaku wonder how he could breathe. Perhaps it was the way he carried himself, back completely straight, rigid as a board, yet he managed to look very relaxed and at ease, even as he stood to his full height, exhibiting a confidence that Suzaku had not seen in anyone else. He could see from his place by Gino and Anya that he had very slender, but long hands, which were clad in black gloves.

"Who is that man, Gino?" The blonde turned to him, away from his conversation with their friend Anya.

"Hm? I dunno…he sure is funny looking, though…" He turned back to Anya. Suzaku pondered his words. It was true, even for someone at a masquerade ball; he was dressed in a lot of black. He wore the color on every part of his outfit, excluding the white and most dramatic looking cravat Suzaku had ever seen. (Though, to be fair, he hadn't seen many cravats at all.) The female dancing with him wore a similar color scheme, clad in a black dress with white, elbow high gloves, and a white feather pluming from the edge of her simple black eye mask. They had stark contrast to the rest of the room, who were all dressed in purples, greens, and blues. The room itself was filled with gold light, emanating from chandeliers with gold leaf designs, casting the room in soft, rich, light.

He sat there watching them for almost an hour, still not able to identify the masked man. It occurred to him that this was sort of pathetic, just sitting around watching someone while he was at a party. So, he decided to just go and ask him to remove the mask. As luck would have it, he was exiting the room, alone, so Suzaku stood and quickly followed.

The onyx dressed man saw him, and paused at the top of a long, dark flight of stairs. The outside corridor was not well lit, the only illumination spilling out of the room where the party continued.

"Who are you?" He chuckled, a deep, baritone sound to match his slightly menacing appearance.

"You would dare to unmask me?" It seemed like an odd question—wasn't he just another party goer? Perhaps that should have clued Suzaku in, but he just nodded.

"Yes." He stopped laughing, just as the green haired woman appeared behind him. He turned to her, smiling at some joke that Suzaku didn't understand, though it presumably had something to do with him. Suzaku felt the ominous feeling return to him.

"Ah, you're just in time to join in the fun." He turned back to Suzaku. "Come on, then. If you want to know who I am, then come and remove my mask." The woman smiled like she knew something the emerald eyed boy didn't, and he knew she probably did, but he stepped forward, swallowing his fear. He was just another guest after all; it was stupid to be afraid, no matter what feeling he got.

Tanned fingers pulled at the mask, and it came away, as though held by nothing at all. Its absence revealed pale skin that was the color of ivory, ebony hair, and…red eyes? They were as red as rubies… His observations only got this far before a sharp pain shot through his lungs. The fingers on his left hand tightened around the velvet material of the mask, right coming up to his chest. What was going on?

"W-what" Another pang cut him off. He coughed, softly at first, then hacking. When he was finally able to remove his hand, he found it covered in blood, and tasted the salty substance on his tongue. Panicked, he looked up at the man (who really was quite beautiful, despite his alien eyes.) Who only laughed madly.

"It the knowledge worth it?" He laughed more, as the brunette coughed up more blood. For the dying boy, who had since dropped to his knees, it really wasn't funny at all. And it really wasn't worth it, because this man was a stranger, no matter who he reminded him of. He was quite certain now. "Yes. I'll even tell you more: I am Lelouch Vi Britannia." His gloved hand caught the Japanese boys chin, stalling his coughing as if by magic, and ruby, almost demonic eyes glared directly at his own. "Better known as the Red Death. Though there's not a whole lot of good knowing will do you now, is there?" Fear gripped the human boy's heart. What was this person? He let out a whimper when the pale boy's tongue swiped blood off of his own lips, and then he leaned back, still smiling maniacally, he thrust him back to the ground, where he continued to hack up more blood.

"You're very cruel, Lelouch." The golden eyed woman playfully reprimanded her companion.

"Well, he _did_ want to unmask me…" They turned to the human, now in his death throes, and the raven haired male chuckled a bit, for he was quite mad. The brunette's only response was to vomit blood even more profusely, before finally lying still. He bent down and took the black velvet mask out of the dead boy's hand, replacing it on his face, once again concealing his identity from anyone but his female companion.

"How did he think he knew you?" The man shrugged.

"I think I killed a lady friend of his about a year ago. He never did see my face. And it was quite horrific for him; of course, it's a gruesome way to go. But, it is fitting that they should share the same death, eh?" He didn't mention the odd circumstances involving her death. It had been quite the romantic melodrama, and he tried very hard not to look back on the eventful night too much.

"Ah, yes, I remember her." She looked to his face, though found it difficult to read his emotions because of the mask. The Red Death could be quite moody about his killings, sometimes remorseful, but most of the time merciless and angry. For reasons his madness had long since forgotten.

"Let's go. That bastard's gone and gotten his own blood all over my boots. It's quite disgusting." He kicked at the pool of blood, ignoring the corpse. She chuckled.

"He had some nerve." They both walked back into the masquerade, but not before he wiped the blood on the clean carpet. It wouldn't do to track blood into the party, after all.

A/N: Another Red Death fic? But this one is for Code Geass! I really am enjoying writing horror, and I might add a few more before I get done with it. Probably a few more Edgar Allan Poe spinoffs, like the Raven or something…not really sure, but I sure do love Eddie! He has such wonderful, spinoff-able work! Pleeeaaase review! I'm just a fic writer, I need some encouragement! And, of course, criticism! ;D Thanks!


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